


you got the rhythm

by 127mood



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Feelings Without Realizing There Are Feelings, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/127mood/pseuds/127mood
Summary: “Tease,” Yuta whispers, breath hot against Doyoung’s skin. Says it as if he hadn’t been playing a game of cat-and-mouse with Doyoung for an hour, before finally biting down on his ear lobe and whispering, “let’s get out of here”.





	you got the rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> so your carefully applied makeup can smudge  
leave it alone, you’re beautiful  
even if your crisp shirt gets all wrinkled  
it’s alright, look straight at me  
the moves are starting again, under the dark lights  
your elegant gestures, secretive looks  
you reflect on the clear window, your flickering moves  
with this strange feeling, this breathtaking attraction  
you got, got the rhythm  
(MOVE - TAEMIN)

Doyoung giggles, head clear now thanks to the walk from Johnny's place, while Yuta fumbles with the keys to his apartment. Neither of them drank much to begin with, too distracted by each other, and Yuta’s tolerance rivals his own. But his clumsiness may have to do with Doyoung's hands on his waist and how he's peppering light kisses down the side of Yuta's neck, nipping just to hear those tiny frustrated sounds trapped in the back of his throat. As much as Doyoung wants to get out of this too-quiet hallway and into Yuta's bed, Doyoung thinks Yuta’s cute like this — especially when he usually looks so confident and alluring and composed. 

Yuta manages to press his key into the lock and opens the door, tugging Doyoung in by the shirt and pressing him against the door as soon as it closes, flicking the light on. 

"Finally," he mumbles and messily hangs his keys on the hook by the door, then threads his fingers into Doyoung's hair. He leans forward, eyes already fluttering shut, but Doyoung cups his jaw, pausing his advances, absolutely reveling in the small whine Yuta lets out.

"What?" Doyoung grins. "Did you miss me or something?"

Yuta takes a breath and visibly swallows, finding that cool-facade he always puts on that always, inevitably, falls by the time they’re done. His lips pull into a small smirk and he drags his hand down Doyoung's stomach, over his belt, cupping him through his jeans. "It seems like you did."

Doyoung almost arches into his touch — almost. He doesn't want to let himself go completely yet, either. Instead, he licks his lips and allows himself to admire Yuta under proper light — his smokey eye and the way Yuta seems to have dusted real gold onto his cheek bones. He traces his thumb over Yuta's lower lip (plump, soft, still a little glossy), then presses down and drags the pad of his finger across Yuta's mouth and cheek, smearing violet across his skin.

And Doyoung isn’t sure what’s prettier — Yuta put together so precisely, or how he looks now, with his makeup smudging, a little ruined. Doyoung licks his own lips, thumb returning to hover of the seam of Yuta’s mouth.

“Tease,” Yuta whispers, breath hot against Doyoung’s skin. Says it as if he hadn’t been playing a game of cat-and-mouse with Doyoung for an hour, before finally biting down on his ear lobe and whispering, “let’s get out of here”.

He takes Doyoung’s thumb into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, sucking a little, eyes dark and sharp. Doyoung’s breath hitches when he bites down lightly.

“Speak for yourself,” Doyoung mumbles, a little dazed. He’s falling apart faster than he’d like, but that can’t be helped. Yuta is kind of irresistible — not that he’d tell him that. Not yet. 

Yuta grins around his finger, slow and beautiful, before releasing it. Then he surges forward to catch Doyoung in a kiss, drawing out a soft moan when he pulls at Doyoung’s hair lightly and easily coaxes him to part his lips.

Yuta kisses urgently, a little sloppy and rushed, as if this is the last chance he’ll get. And to be fair — it’s been awhile since they’ve done this. Two and a half months. Summer break never felt so long.

Sure, they texted sometimes (when Yuta didn’t disappear for days then shoot him a “was marathoning one piece again” or “went hiking there was no service” much later). They’ve sent nudes here and there. Yuta had called him once and talked Doyoung through fucking himself with his fingers, voice like velvet in his ear. But all of that is incomparable to this — Yuta groaning into his mouth when Doyoung slips his hand down to squeeze his ass. He pulls back to look at Doyoung again. His lipstick has faded, the shine gone. Doyoung wonders what his own face looks like right now.

“I wanna ride you,” Yuta says, a little breathless. 

“Fuck.” Doyoung swallows, the memory of Yuta grinding against him in a dark corner not even half an hour ago is vivid. He nods. “Okay, yeah.”

Yuta takes him by the hand and eagerly drags him to his room, barely leaving enough time for the two of them to kick their shoes off first. The rest of the apartment is dark, so either Yuta’s flatmate is gone, or he’s about to be woken up soon. 

Doyoung hadn't been planning to go out tonight. He had been ready to curl up in bed and find something to marathon on Netflix until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. But then Ten, the cause of most of the chaos of Doyoung's life, had come over. He had asked Taeyong to go with him to Johnny's party, and Taeyong had convinced Doyoung to come too, using a fatal combination of doe eyes with “it’s my senior year”, “we need to spend more time together”, and “just a few drinks, we won’t even stay out that long”. 

That's how Doyoung found himself in a basement, one of Ten's chokers on his neck and a drink in his hand. Taeyong, the traitor, had ditched him for Johnny barely five minutes after they reached the frat house. But then he saw Yuta, and — well.

Yuta pulls him into another kiss as soon as they’re in the room, with that same desperation as before, but this time Doyoung holds Yuta by the hips and slows them down. He moves deliberately, kisses almost methodically, licking into Yuta’s mouth and relishing the soft moan that escapes him. 

Doyoung squeezes his hips once before sliding his hands up to find the button of Yuta’s sleeveless jumpsuit, quickly undoing them and his belt. It’s nicer than anything he’d usually wear — Doyoung doubts he bought it himself. The same goes for the make up, now that Doyoung thinks about it. He’s tempted to ask, but there’s more pressing matters to attend to right now.

He bites down on Yuta’s lower lip and tugs a little before pulling back. Yuta looks up at him with hooded eyes, the heat of his gaze going straight to Doyoung’s dick.

He licks his lips, now swollen, and gently pushes the black fabric over Yuta’s shoulders, letting it fall, and… “_Oh_.”

What he had thought was a simple golden chain around Yuta’s neck extends down his chest, stopping at stomach, branching off at the endings and wrapping around his waist. There’s a glint of silver at Yuta’s belly button, matching his decorated ears. Doyoung’s mouth goes dry.

“Like what you see?” Yuta teases. 

The belly button piercing is new, and Doyoung doesn’t even have the mind to tease back. “Yes,” he says, maybe a little too eagerly. Whatever. Watching Yuta preen under his honest praise is worth it. 

He reaches out to trace his finger over the curve of Yuta’s waist, but Yuta flits away with a laugh. And Doyoung _ nearly _ pouts. 

“Strip and get on the bed.” Yuta waves his hand, then turns around and rummages through the top drawer of his dresser. 

Doyoung doesn’t think he’s ever undressed faster — jeans, shirt, and boxers laying in a haphazard pile on the floor. By the time he’s sitting against the headboard, Yuta rewards him by dropping his own boxers, ass on full display. 

Is it sacrilege to think Yuta looks divine? Doyoung’s never been particularly religious, but he thinks he could worship the line of Yuta’s body, the soft skin of his inner thighs, the firm muscles of his arms, and his perfect, perky ass. His mouth waters at the thought of bending Yuta over, spreading him open and pressing his tongue to the tight pucker of his hole — like he’s in a desert and Yuta is his only oasis. 

Yuta spins around once he’s found what he wanted, eyeing Doyoung with a knowing smirk. He tosses a couple of condoms onto the bed, lube in one hand, then settles onto Doyoung’s lap — like he belongs there (and he does). 

He doesn’t waste any time, trailing wet kisses from Doyoung’s jaw to his neck, taking Doyoung’s choker between his teeth, pulling it, then letting it snap against Doyoung’s skin. Yuta laughs when Doyoung gasps, then presses a soft kiss there, smiling when Doyoung’s hand come to settle of his waist. 

The body chain is almost as enticing as Yuta is, and Doyoung can’t help but play with it, pulling the chain taut, then releasing it, pressing the thin metal against Yuta’s warm skin. 

He feels Yuta smile wider, before biting down just above Doyoung’s collar bone, sucking gently. He’s probably going to leave a mark, but Doyoung doesn’t care. He can’t bring himself to worry about if he has concealer or if he’s going to be walking around campus looking like he was mauled by a wolf. He can’t bring him to care, not when Yuta is slipping a hand between their bodies and wrapping his fingers around Doyoung’s dick, stroking him slowly. 

And Doyoung isn’t sure if he’s touch-starved or if he kind of did miss Yuta, because something so simple makes him feel like he’s on fire — feverish and delirious. He slides his hands into Yuta’s hair (it had grown out over the summer, long strands just about brushing over his shoulders) and drags him down for another kiss, moaning when Yuta’s hand picks up the pace. 

His hands wander again, fervently, tracing over Yuta’s back, past where the body chain joins together, down to Yuta’s ass. He opens his eyes when he feels Yuta’s other hand already there, fingers slick with lube. When had he even had the time to start prepping himself? 

“If I had known you were gonna be at the party.” Yuta pulls back to looks at him with bright eyes. “I would’ve worn a plug.”

“I like this part, though,” Doyoung says, voice coming out a little lower than he intended. He slides one finger between Yuta’s cheeks, rubbing over the slightly stretched out rim. “Can I..?”

Yuta considers him for a moment, then picks up the bottle of lube sitting near his foot and hands it over. 

Doyoung squeezes some of the lube onto his hands, a little clumsy, some of it falling onto his lap. Yuta giggles, but it isn’t mean, and Doyoung can’t help but chuckle too. 

The soft laugh morphs into a breathy moan the second Doyoung starts to press his finger in along with Yuta’s. He moves slowly, millimeter by millimeter, easing into Yuta. And it’s captivating — the way his eyebrows furrow and he takes his lower lip between his teeth.

“Is this okay?” Doyoung whispers, once he’s down to the last knuckle.

“Yeah, just gimme a second.” Yuta shifts, moving his hand from Doyoung’s dick to his shoulder to steady himself. He slides his own finger out a little, then back in, shallowly fucking himself. 

Doyoung leans forward and presses a soft, comforting kiss to Yuta’s throat, then another between his collarbones, just above where the chain starts to dip down. He licks a line from Yuta’s sternum upwards along the chain, loving the contrast of hot and cold against his tongue. 

“Okay,” Yuta says once he’s ready. He sighs softly, pleased, when Doyoung starts to move his hand, trying to match the rhythm Yuta has set. The angle is a little awkward, with Yuta’s fingers there too, and Doyoung has a feeling his hand is going to cramp up or something if he keeps going — he’s not about to embarrass himself like this.

“Wait — can you lay down on your back?” Doyoung kisses Yuta’s throat again. “Just so I can prep you properly?”

Yuta slides his finger out slowly and hums softly. “Sure,” he says, and Doyoung can feel the vibrations under his lips. 

He moves off Doyoung’s lap gracefully and lays down, propping himself up with a few pillows and spreading his legs, one arm folded behind his head.

Doyoung moves less elegantly. He settles between Yuta’s thighs and leans down to kiss Yuta again — his lips, his chin, his neck.. He presses two fingers into Yuta and mouths at his collarbone, working him open carefully, precisely. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Doyoung mumbles. He shifts to circle his tongue around Yuta’s nipple, then sucks. 

Yuta moans softly in response. “Yeah?”

Doyoung hums, too focused to reply, and drags his lips down Yuta’s body. He nips at Yuta’s belly, and Yuta inhales sharply, his stomach tightening, revealing lean muscle. The piercing glints as he moves, and — _ fuck_. Everything about Yuta is incredible. 

“More,” Yuta sighs. When Doyoung looks up, he’s staring back down with hooded eyes, lazily teasing at his nipple with one hand. “I can take more.”

Doyoung flicks his tongue over the piercing once, admiring the way Yuta gasps again, the way his hips twitch up, his dick brushing up against Doyoung. 

He sits up, taking in the image of Yuta laid out in front of him, so open and plaint, before pouring more lube onto his fingers. He grabs one of the condoms with his clean hand and hands it to Yuta. “Open this.”

Yuta complies, fumbling when Doyoung eases three fingers in slowly. He hands the condom over with a shaky breath. Doyoung licks his lips. 

He rolls the condom over Yuta’s dick with practiced ease, flashing a reassuring smile when Yuta lifts his head and whispers, “Doyoung?”

Doyoung strokes Yuta’s dick one, then circles the pad of his finger of the tip, his mouth watering. “I just really wanna…” He trails off and leans in, taking Yuta into his mouth, halfway down, hollowing his cheeks immediately and groaning, pleased.

“_Fuck_,” Yuta moans. His hand fly down to fist at Doyoung’s hair, practically whimpering when Doyoung starts to slowly fuck him with fingers. “Fuck, _ Doyoung_.”

And Doyoung _ loves _ this — the weight against his tongue, the little sounds and reactions he can pull out, because he’s good at this and he knows Yuta loves it too.

And okay, yeah. Maybe he missed Yuta a lot. 

Doyoung bobs his head slowly at first — it’s been a few months since he’s done this — sucking harder every time he pulls up. He takes more and more, urged on by the breathy little gasps coming from Yuta.

“Mmn.” Yuta’s voice sounds muffled, and when Doyoung looks up, he’s biting down on his lower lip, eyes almost completely shut. 

Doyoung pulls off and smiles up at him, a little cheeky. “Why’re you holding back?” Yuta is usually vocal, though he always insists Doyoung is louder. He strokes Yuta’s cock slowly and leans in again to swirl his tongue around the head.

“Why are you?” Yuta scoffs softly, tugging a little on Doyoung’s hair.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he trails quick, open mouth kisses down Yuta’s cock to the base, then back up, hand falling to cup his balls. He gives the head a few kittenish licks, trying to relax his throat. He glances up at Yuta one more time before taking him all the way down, until his nose is brushing against Yuta’s trimmed hairs, until he can feel Yuta in the back of his throat.

“Oh!” Yuta gasps, hips bucking up.

Doyoung gags a little, which just gets Yuta to moan again and tug harder. Doyoung pulls up a little, shifts his hand over Yuta’s hipbone and holds him down before deepthroating him again, swallowing around him this time.

“Fuck,” Yuta whines. He turns his head into the pillow. “Your mouth is so…”

“Hmm?” Doyoung hums around Yuta’s cock, his fingers searching, pressing up against his prostate.

“Ah!” Yuta moans loudly at that, tries to lift his hips again. “So good, you’re so good, Doyoung _ please_.”

The praise washes over Doyoung in waves, and from there, he’s a little frenetic. He bobs his head over Yuta, lapping at the underside of his cock, massaging that same spot with his fingertips. It’s wet, a little messy, and he can’t help but blush at the sloppy sounds leaving his mouth, no matter how many times he’s done this.

Yuta is close — he can tell. The way the muscles of his thighs tense, the way his stomach trembles with his sharp inhales and shaky exhales, his low groans. The way his hips keep twitching up against Doyoung’s hand, like he wants to fuck Doyoung’s mouth (oh, and Doyoung would absolutely let him — just not right now. He’s enjoying having Yuta at his mercy right now). 

“Wait,” Yuta gasps, desperate. “Doyoung, wait a second.”

Doyoung pulls off quickly, gently sliding his fingers out. He sits back, watching Yuta take a deep breath. His face is as red as his hair used to be in the spring. He looks at Doyoung, almost shy. “You’re gonna make me come too soon.”

Doyoung licks his lips, then whispers, voice coming out raspy: “I’ll make you come twice, then.” 

Yuta whimpers a little at that, his pretty thighs falling apart just the slightest bit more. And as much as Doyoung likes to tease Yuta, he wants to — _needs_ to — fuck him right now.

Doyoung crawls forward and kisses Yuta hard, one hand finding the body chain again, playing with it, and Yuta returns each kiss just as eagerly, teeth and tongue and lips. He wraps one of his legs around Doyoung’s waist and brings his hips up. And Doyoung gasps as Yuta rubs against his dick.

“You still wanna ride me, baby?” Doyoung whispers against Yuta’s lips, the petname slipping out before Doyoung can think about it.

Yuta either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind it because he kisses Doyoung again. “Sit against the headboard.”

Doyoung complies, placing a few pillows behind his back. Yuta grabs a condom and rolls it onto Doyoung’s dick, drizzling lube on top after. He grins when Doyoung shivers at the cool substance hitting his skin, and wraps his hand around him, stroking him.

“It’s been so long,” Yuta mumbles. He shifts forward to straddle Doyoung’s lap, his clean hand coming up to grasp Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung rubs his palms over Yuta’s thighs, soothing him as he guides Doyoung’s dick in place.

Yuta’s more than ready, but he sinks down on Doyoung’s dick impossibly slow. He stares into Doyoung’s eyes, hypnotic, keeping him in place as he takes Doyoung in deeper. And for a moment, Doyoung feels reverent — like having Yuta on his lap like this is an honor (and it is).

Yuta lets out an indulgent moan when he’s fully seated, eyelashes fluttering. “Perfect,” he murmurs. 

Doyoung isn’t sure _ what’s _perfect, but there’s something about Yuta’s voice that makes Doyoung’s pulse quicken. Yuta grins, as if he knows, always so aware of the impact he has on people. 

And then he starts to move. 

Yuta’s in the same dance crew as Taeyong and Ten — that’s how they met in the first place, when Taeyong invited Doyoung along to dinner after a performance. NeoU is diverse, they all have varied styles and try out different concepts. Doyoung doesn’t know much about dance, but he knows they’re all great dancers. And he knows that there’s something special about Yuta, the way he holds himself, the intensity in his eyes, the sharp, controlled movements of his body — he’s entrancing. It’s hard to look away. 

When Yuta rides him, it’s no different from how he is up on stage. His movements are precise, practiced, effortless. Instead of Doyoung’s moments of tunnel vision, instead of everything else falling away so all Doyoung can see is Yuta — there’s nothing and no one else between them now. And this time, Doyoung has Yuta’s full attention on him too. It’s intense, overwhelming, and Doyoung wouldn’t mind drowning in the feeling. 

“Missed this,” Doyoung gasps out when Yuta swivels his hips. In all honesty, he had wanted to meet up with Yuta during syllabus week — but Yuta hadn’t replied to his last message from the week before and Doyoung had too much pride to double text for a dick appointment. 

Now, though — now, with Yuta bouncing over him, he’s realizing it was silly. Yuta is a forgetful texter. He doesn’t care about the intricacies and formalities of how people communicate on social media. And he’s too good at riding dick for Doyoung to stay away from for too long.

Yuta beams, bright and charming. Doyoung thinks he’s going to say something ridiculous, but he just leans in for a quick kiss, messy and uncoordinated. It’s oddly sweet. “Did you think about me often?”

“Did you?” Doyoung counters, blushing. It’s embarrassing how much he thought Yuta, especially when they aren’t even entirely friends, more focused on the whole _ benefits _ bit of the arrangement whenever they’d meet up.

Yuta rests his forehead against Doyoung’s, not minding the way Doyoung’s glasses press against his face. He rolls his hips slowly, one hand coming up to cup Doyoung’s cheek. “I missed your mouth. Those pretty sounds you make and your _ tongue_.” He brushes his thumb over Doyoung’s lower lip, humming when Doyoung kisses his fingertip. “Kept thinking about how good you look with your mouth full of my dick. You take me so well, like you were made to suck dick.”

Doyoung’s ears burn at that, and he squeezes Yuta’s hips, trying to find words, but all he can manage is, “_Yuta_.”

Yuta slips his thumb past Doyoung’s lips, groaning when Doyoung sucks, puffing his lips around Yuta’s finger. “I wanna fuck your mouth — would you let me? Would you get on your knees for me? Maybe lay back on the bed and just let me use your mouth like that? Use you until you’re a drooling, whining mess? Let me fuck you until I come down your throat? Would you like that, Doyoung?”

Doyoung moans at his words, heat coursing through him. He can imagine it so clearly. “You’d pull my hair, holding me in place. I’d sit there and let you ruin me,” Doyoung hums, face heating up more. He’s never been as good as Yuta when it comes to talking like this. Even saying this aloud leaves him feeling too exposed. “Only — if your cum doesn’t taste like diesel or something.” 

Yuta snorts and shifts his hand to thread into Doyoung’s hair. “It _ doesn’t_.” And before Doyoung can ask how he can be so sure, Yuta picks up the pace again.

He pants, mouth open, and the way the tip of his dick rubs up against Doyoung’s stomach is so wonderfully filthy, Doyoung thinks he could just come on the spot. He wraps his arms around Yuta, pulling him closer and closer, pressing up against him, until there’s no space between them. And it’s so_ good _, it’s so hot — until Doyoung’s glasses start to fog up, blurring his view of Yuta. 

“Hang on,” Doyoung grumbles, cheeks flushing.

Yuta laughs, loud and delighted, and maybe Doyoung’s heart stutters in his chest at the sound of it. 

He stops, settling on Doyoung’s lap, wiggles a little and takes him all the way. Then, he gently slides Doyoung’s glasses off. “You’re cute,” Yuta mumbles, barely audible, and carefully places the frames on his side table. Doyoung tries not to smile too wide at that.

He takes the chance to slowly slip down on the bed, keeping a hand on Yuta’s hip to steady him, until he’s laying flat on his back, knees bent, pillow under his head. 

Yuta adjusts himself over Doyoung and grins down at him. His hands slide up Doyoung’s belly and settle just below his chest, an impish smile pulling at his lips. 

“What?” Doyoung squeezes Yuta’s hips.

“Nothing,” Yuta hums. He massages Doyoung’s pecs lightly, fingers moving in slow circles. 

Doyoung swallows as Yuta starts to drag his nails over his skin, moving over his dick frustratingly slow — bringing himself up until just the tip is in, then sinking back down.

Doyoung knows what’s coming, but that doesn’t stop the loud moan from leaving his mouth when Yuta pinches his nipples gently, rolling them between his fingers.

“You’re still so sensitive here,” Yuta says, delighted. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? We were only apart a few months.” Doyoung blushes and arches into Yuta’s touch as he teases him. Doyoung used to be kind of shy about how sensitive he is, but Yuta seems to like it a lot. He’s taken his time to learn Doyoung’s body, what he enjoys, and uses his mouth and his skilled hands to turn Doyoung to putty.

Fucking Yuta doesn’t just feel phenomenal — it’s fun. On some level, it's like a game, the two of them competing when it comes to pleasuring each other, trying to see who falls apart first (Doyoung’s lost track of their score, but he thinks they both win in the end every time anyway).

Doyoung rolls his hips up, meeting Yuta each time he comes down. One hand finds its way to the chain again. Doyoung tugs at it lightly, just to watch it strain against Yuta’s skin.

“You better not — _ mmn _ — break it,” Yuta manages to say between groans.

“I won’t.” Doyoung whines, low in his throat, when Yuta flicks his fingers over his nipples quickly. “And I’d buy you a new one if I did.”

“Ooh, trying to be my sugar daddy?” 

“Shut up.” Doyoung huffs out a laugh. He lets go of the chain and bucks his hips up, hard, making Yuta yelp and fall forward. He braces his hands on either side of Doyoung’s head, mouth falling open, a long moan escaping him as Doyoung continues to fuck up into him.

“Like that?” Doyoung whispers. He slides one hand down, giving Yuta’s ass a squeezes before spanking him lightly.

“_Ah _— more!” Yuta’s cheeks are the most delicious shade of pink.

Doyoung brings his palm down harder, then again, groaning when Yuta tightens around him. He shifts under him, angling his hips carefully before thrusting up, fast and eager, the mattress squeaking under them.

“_Doyoung_,” Yuta whimpers. He buries his face into the crook of Doyong’s neck, flattening himself over Doyoung until his cock is trapped between them, sliding up against Doyoung each time he snaps his hips up.

“You’re amazing,” Doyoung grunts, like the words are being punched out of him. He’s losing himself in the feeling, every sense consumed by Yuta: the expanse of Yuta’s lithe body over him, the silky heat around him, the sound of Yuta’s melodic moans, just Yuta, Yuta, _ Yuta_. 

Doyoung chases that feeling, he can’t get enough of it, and they’re both close, Doyoung is so sure, if Yuta’s broken whines are any indication. The slide is so good, just a little more, just a little longer, they’re _ so _ close — until Doyoung slips out for a moment, because as perfect as sex with Yuta is, it’s full of imperfections too. "_Shit_, sorry.”

Yuta cries out at the loss, reaching back with both hands to try and guide Doyoung back in. Doyoung meets Yuta’s desperate fingers with a steady hand, kissing his shoulder as an apology. He slides back in, fucking him again quickly.

One of Yuta’s hands tangles in his hair, and the other stays with Doyoung’s. He intertwines their fingers and pins Doyoung’s arm to the bed with no sign of letting go anytime soon. 

The concept of holding hands isn’t really a big deal, of course. They’ve held hands, briefly and casually. But there’s something about this that’s different, unlike anything they’ve done before.

It’s intimate.

“Don’t stop, _ please_, I’m so close,” Yuta begs. 

“Come for me, baby.” Doyoung groans when Yuta flutters around him. 

He reaches between them and strokes Yuta’s dick, rolling his hips in time with his hand until Yuta is moaning into his ear and squeezing his other hand.

Doyoung fucks him shallowly through his orgasm, then slows to a stop, carefully pulling out. Yuta is soft and pliant on top of him as he catches his breath, sweet as he nuzzles Doyoung’s neck. Doyoung tilts his head to kiss Yuta’s temple gently. 

Then he slips his hand away and wraps it around his own dick, stroking himself quickly, twisting his hand on the downstroke. And Yuta reaches back with his free hand, playing with the head of his dick, nipping at Doyoung’s neck.

“Yuta,” Doyoung whispers. If his voice was any louder, it would tremble. His hips jerk up when Yuta thumbs at the slit. “Can I kiss you?”

Yuta raises his head, just enough so the tips of their noses brush, his long hair almost creating a curtain around their faces. His eyes are soft, filled with warmth. And when he leans down for a kiss, Doyoung can only describe it as tender.

He comes like that, moaning loudly into Yuta’s mouth as he spills into the condom.

Yuta smiles against his lips, kissing him one more time before slowly pulling away and settling on Doyoung’s side, his hair fanning out on the pillow, one leg slung over Doyoung’s thighs. Doyoung takes one breath, then another, then turns until he faces Yuta, hand coming back to Yuta’s hip, rubbing small circles into his skin. 

They’re still holding hands.

“How’re you feeling?” Doyoung says quietly, after a moment.

“Good.” Yuta gives him a sleepy smile. “I really did miss you.”

Doyoung reaches up to brush a strand of Yuta’s hair back, trying to ignore how hot he suddenly feels. Was the room always this warm? “I missed you too.”

He strokes Yuta’s hair, combing it back gently until his eyes flutter shut. His lipstick and eyeliner are a mess, smudged and fading. Doyoung leans forward and kisses his forehead. “We should clean up now.”

Yuta wrinkles his nose. “In the morning.”

“You have to take your contacts out.” Doyoung gets up, slipping out of Yuta’s hold and regretting it instantly. “And you still got makeup on.”

“Ugh,” Yuta groans, loud and exaggerated, and sits up with a pout.

He’s so fucking _ cute_, Doyoung can’t help but kiss Yuta until he’s smiling against. “You’re such a baby sometimes.”

“Does that mean you’ll carry me to the bathroom?”

“Do you really want me to?”

Yuta stands up slowly. “Nah, I can still walk straight.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

Yuta winks — and it should be ridiculous, but Doyoung finds it charming. “It might be.”

Doyoung laughs softly and reaches out rub away some of the lipstick that managed to get on Yuta’s chin. “What’s the makeup and outfit for anyway?” Aside from performances, Yuta’s go-to outfits are athleisure and the occasional bucket hat. Sometimes he'd wear eyeliner and lip tint, but not much else. 

“Filmed something today.” Yuta leans into his touch. 

“Oh?” Doyoung raises his eyebrows in interest.

“Don’t wanna say too much about the project yet, but Momo and I had to have matching outfits. She helped me with the makeup.” Yuta flashes a cheeky grin. “Did I look good?”

“Yeah, you looked good. Like — _ really _ good. You’re beautiful,” Doyoung says, and flushes immediately. His hand falls away.

Of course he thinks Yuta is beautiful — ethereal, really. Who _ wouldn’t _ think Yuta is gorgeous? But saying things aloud like this wasn’t really something that they did. Doyoung wonders if anyone else in their situation would say stuff like this, or if he just doesn’t have a filter.

“Oh.” Yuta’s smile softens into something more gentle. A type of smile from Yuta that makes Doyoung’s chest feel warm. “Thank you.”

Doyoung doesn’t know what else to say, so he keeps his mouth shut in case something else embarrassing comes out of it. They move the the bathroom across the hall, cleaning off and taking care of what they need to in relative silence. It’s a strange sort of quietness, comfortable to the point of almost being domestic, but there’s this weird underlying tension too.

“Um.” Doyoung chews on his lower lip as he watches Yuta rinse the soap off his face. “Can I stay the night?”

“Yeah, of course.” Yuta smiles at him through the mirror. “You don’t even need to ask.”

“Just wanted to check — since it’s, uh, been a while.” Doyoung’s cheeks heat up.

“I’ll be done in a sec, if you wanna head back to the room first.” Yuta grins wider. “Wanna be the little spoon?”

Doyoung smiles back and nods. “Sure.”

Yuta’s bed is cozy and familiar. When they meet up, it’s usually at Yuta’s place, since Doyoung shares a room with Taeyong. More space, more convenient — less interruptions. He’s slept here enough times now that the neighbors recognize him. Doyoung settles on the left side, as usual, leaving enough space for Yuta to claim the right. 

He’s starting to drift off, exhaustion of the day settling into him, when he feels the bed dip. An arm slips across his waist, hand hot on his belly. Yuta’s chest is firm against his back. 

Yuta nuzzles the back of his neck, his unique brand of affection so sweet and endearing that Doyoung couldn't stop himself from smiling if he tried. “Good night,” he mumbles against Doyoung’s skin.

Doyoung covers Yuta’s hand with his own. “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant to write this in july LAST YEAR but kinda forgot how to write smut so here i am now...shout out to iva for reminding me every few months that this fic exists and i shouldn't let it rot in my drafts <3
> 
> i've decided to post this in two parts to motivate myself to actually finish it. chapter two has a some parts done so hopefully it'll be posted soon...
> 
> and if anyone was wondering, this is the [outfit](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYJu-kVP5nc) yuta was wearing (minus the jacket, and of course a body chain instead of the choker/collar) 
> 
> hope this was alright ^^;; thanks for reading!


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